


Calling

by AndromedaPrime



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: F/M, Femmes with Spikes (Transformers), Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 15:19:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndromedaPrime/pseuds/AndromedaPrime
Summary: Bumblebee can be a bit insatiable. Luckily, Windblade is up for the challenge.Fluff/smut sans plot.





	Calling

**Author's Note:**

> I began to spite-ship WindBee. And then it became an actual ship.

Windblade gently ran her digits over the helm of the little yellow bot next to her, watching his optic covers twitch and flutter in his recharge cycle, how his doorwings flickered every few kliks. He stirred in berth, making a low noise of contentment as he buried his faceplates in her shoulder strut.

She adjusted how she lay, pulling him closer and positioning his helm in the space between her shoulder strut and her chassis, where it was arguably a little more comfortable. 

Times like this she wondered what he was dreaming of, if he dreamed of anything. Were the memory cells dancing in his processor starting to fix themselves? Was he reliving the memories that had been successfully retrieved? Or was he dreaming something fictitious?

Bumblebee’s doorwings flicked again and he blearily opened his optics, fixing his gaze on her. Instantly his field changed from sleepy to happy, and he bunted his helm against hers.

Windblade laughed and bunted her helm against his in return. “I thought you were tired after our round.”

The little yellow scout raised his doorwings and a pensive look came across his faceplates before he shook his helm. He wiggled his hips and took one of her servos into his, guiding it between his-

“You really want to go again?” she asked, tone almost incredulous. His optics had gone near-white with the intensity of his last overload as her spike had reached almost to the back of his valve. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

The mech nodded and moved his servo away. Bumblebee snuggled into the crook of her neck, wrapped his arms around her, and sighed happily as Windblade began stroking her thin digits over the warm and wet lips of his valve. The jet smiled and set about her task, circling one of her fingers over the mech’s anterior node and quite enjoying the little whimpers and quakes of frame that Bumblebee was letting through.

“Oh Primus,” she said, a smirk in her tone of voice, “you’re so sensitive right now. Were you thinking about this in your recharge?”

A moment later, she felt an emphatic nod against her neck cables. 

“You’re pretty insatiable, you know that, right?” Windblade said. 

Bumblebee’s electromagnetic field told her that yes, he absolutely knew how much of a slagger he was. In her processor’s optic she could see the smirk that wasn’t on his faceplates but completely in his optics.

Oh it was completely on. She crooked one of her digits at the joint and pushed in past the rim of the mech’s valve, prodding a few of the sensory nodes set deep within. Bumblebee’s legs twitched as if they were going to kick in some direction, but the scout managed to stop them. Windblade turned her helm and kissed the side of the other bot’s helm as she pressed a second digit into his valve, stroking along the inside mesh.

Bumblebee made a soft bleat with his vocalizer and his vents huffed. He pulled back from where he’d pressed his faceplates and allowed Windblade a full view of his expression - optics shut, mouth hanging slightly open, desperate as he rolled his hips and the calipers of his valve rippled along the length of the two intruders. The jet placed soft kisses along the side of his helm as she rubbed her palm over his anterior node, digits thrusting in and out as deep as they could go.

Her spike, having retracted back into its housing, readily emerged, but she neglected it for now as she inserted a third finger and relished the gasp that Bumblebee emitted. His thighs quaked against the berth and his valve clung fiercely to her.

One of his bright blue optics opened and fixed on her, his expression almost begging her to get on with it. She kissed him on his lipplates this time and shifted down the berth, removing her digits as she took his legs into her arms and bent them slightly, looking between their frames at his array. It was a slick mess, a trail of lubricant trickling out of his valve and pooling beneath his bottom.

How she wanted to bury her glossa into that soaking valve, feel the warm slickness of those plump lips on and around her lipplates and inhale his heady scent, but that would be for another time. Releasing one of the mech’s legs and letting Bee wrap it around her waist, Windblade took her spike in one servo and gently guided it to the quivering, wet entrance, nudging past the folds and slowly sliding inside the slick warmth.

Bumblebee buzzed and made a relieved and sated noise when their arrays pressed flush against each other. He smiled up at her, and oh how her spark was fit to burst with affection and love. Clearly he read it to, as the doorwings that were flat against the berth and underneath him moved with a bit of struggle, and he twitched them.

She cupped his helm in a servo and leaned down to kiss him again. “Let me know if it’s too much for you,” she said, waiting for him to nod or give some sort of affirmative gesture, and once he did, she began a slow tempo of thrusting.

His optics went a pale blue and he arched his neck, gasping quietly with each stroke of her spike against his nodes. Windblade pressed the leg that was still in her arm’s grip up against his chassis, opening him up that much more, and increased her speed a little bit more as she felt fire surge through her circuitry again.

Their first time had been an experience - his long-destroyed quarters in a living complex, her spike and his valve. She still remembered their voices giggling and laughing as they rolled around on the berth to pin the other down as she pounded into him or he rode her spike as if he’d been a pornovid star in a past life, and then their gasps and moans mixing together as they reached the edge and fell over.

Without his voice… Windblade found it to be too quiet, even as she looked down at the ever-changing expression on the yellow scout’s faceplates as she withdrew and then thrust, rolling her hips against his. She smiled sadly at him.

_ I miss your voice calling for me. _

His calipers fluttered around her spike, holding on tightly; she found it starting to become a little more difficult to go in and out, a clear sign that he was close. She moved the other leg that had been around her waist and pushed it up against his chassis too, bending at the knee joints and savoring the startled gasp that Bumblebee emitted as she thrust deeper.

“Is that,” she groaned at the sensation, Primus it felt so good, “is that okay?” 

Bumblebee nodded frantically, and his optics clearly told her that she better not dare to stop, not right now.

She wouldn’t think of it. Windblade held onto his hips and angled them further up, pounding into the wet heat and gasping as she felt her own overload growing closer and closer. 

One of Bumblebee’s servos scrabbled around, trying to find one of hers to hold onto as he bent the other arm and practically slammed it above his helm. His chassis heaved and as Windblade freed one of her servos to hold onto his, he arched his back and his vision went white.

A moment later, hers did to as she bent over him and gasped with each pulse of her spike as transfluid surged forth, emptying whatever little her reserves had managed to build back up. She collapsed onto his frame, chassis heaving, a small part of her processor thankful that she weighed less than he did so she didn’t do much damage to him.

Both bots laid there in the aftermath, vent running hard as they set about cooling their frames. Windblade sighed and opened her optics to see Bumblebee looking at her.

“Think you’ll be okay to go to recharge?” she said, smirking at him.

This time it was he that reached out for her, running his digits along her helm, smiling brightly.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” she sighed, settling next to him and kissing him, her spark happily fluttering as he turned into her frame and kept staring at her. She repeated the motions she had been doing, running the tips of her digits over his helm and the little horns that adorned it. He buzzed at her and flicked his doorwings, drawing a curious expression on his faceplates.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly in response to the question he couldn’t ask. “I’ll be fine. I’m just thinking.”

One of his doorwings lifted in the air and he tilted his helm at her.

“Nothing really. I’m just… thinking of Cybertron. Where the Ark is. Where anyone else is. And that we have to get some recharge so we can keep moving.”

Bumblebee buzzed a little quieter this time.

“I’ll be fine,” she smiled. “As long as we’re together, I think we’ll be fine.”

A smile came across the scout’s faceplates, and he snuggled into her embrace, engine humming contentedly. Beneath the layers of armor and protoform, Windblade swore she could feel the spark thrumming and trying to reach for her.

In truth, hers was too. But that would be something they could indulge in for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic can also be found [here](https://andromedaprime.dreamwidth.org/1422.html) on my Dreamwidth account, which I recently started to actually use. If you have a DW account feel free to stop by and say hi!


End file.
